burn the road that will lead you back to her
by TheAgonyofBlank
Summary: She goes to Burbank, first.


Title: (burn the road) that will lead you back to her  
>Fandom: <em>Lost.<br>_Pairing: Kate, Kate/Juliet.  
>Rating: R.<br>Words: 1000.  
>Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. Title contains lyrics from "Star Mile" by Joshua Radin.<br>Author's Notes: This is the first fic I've written this year! My muse has been terrible as of late, but the idea came to me and I had to write it. This takes place after episode 06x01 - it follows 6x01 SPOILERS - AU!Kate after she has escaped from the cop at the Los Angeles airport.

* * *

><p>She goes to Burbank, first.<p>

There's nothing for her there (there's nothing for her _anywhere_) but it's a nice break, and it gives her time to wind down and recharge for the next leg of her journey.

She's always running, after all.

Santa Cruz is next.

The beaches, the sunshine – it may be getting a little colder now, but she doesn't mind. She smiles when her bare feet hit the sand, enjoying the feel of it sifting through her toes, enjoying the feeling of sinking in and just _being_.

He's still following her; she can feel him there, ever present, in the back of her mind.

She can't stay long.

(She never can).

But for now, she can enjoy the breeze and appreciate the laughter of the children on the boardwalk.

And for these few seconds, she can pretend that she is anyone but Kate Austen.

* * *

><p>When she hits Portland, she decides it's time to ditch the car.<p>

It's not very original, and it may even be clichéd, but she buys herself a one-way ticket for the next flight out of Oregon.

* * *

><p>Orlando is not her first-choice destination, but it has Disneyworld – and she supposes that has to count for something.<p>

She stays long enough to sneak into the park (just to satisfy her curiosity).

Then she's off again.

* * *

><p>The only saving grace of Miami, she decides, is the blonde she meets at the bar.<p>

She doesn't know what makes her do it, but she finds herself slipping onto the barstool next to the other woman.

(Maybe it's her eyes. A clear, melancholy blue).

She doesn't usually do this, but the words come out before she can stop them:

"I'm Kate."

The blonde looks at her for a moment, maybe watching her nurse her drink, or maybe just considering her options.

A few seconds pass, and then, "I'm Juliet."

Kate likes the way her lips quirk upward when she speaks.

She still isn't used to doing this. She takes another gulp of her drink.

"Nice to meet you, Juliet."

The small smile she gets in return makes everything worth it.

(It's the first real conversation she's had in months).

* * *

><p>Days later, and she's in Atlanta.<p>

It's not very interesting, but the hustle and bustle of the city life keeps her entertained for a day or two.

She keeps an eye out for him, knows he's always there.

Then she moves on.

As usual.

* * *

><p>In Charleston, she wakes to the thought of blonde hair and blue eyes, her name on her lips.<p>

(_Juliet_).

* * *

><p>A few late nights (early mornings) in Charlotte are all it takes for her to come to terms with the fact that she thinks of Juliet constantly.<p>

She shoves the thought to the back of her mind.

She doesn't have time for messes, doesn't have time for attachments.

No time for anything real.

* * *

><p>The weeks pass.<p>

She stops by Richmond, D.C., and then Scranton.

All throughout, she tries everything.

Casual dates (she never makes it past the first date), mindless sex.

She doesn't think of anyone the way she thinks of Juliet.

* * *

><p>In New York, she even tries <em>waiting<em> for him to catch up with her.

Just so she'll have something to keep her mind occupied.

(Keep her mind off Juliet).

It doesn't work.

* * *

><p>When she's sure she's not being followed, she doubles back, so to speak.<p>

To fix the problem, she has to go to its source.

(This is the only way).

* * *

><p>She ends up at that same bar in Miami, looking for Juliet.<p>

She doesn't see her.

What she finds is _him_, and it's so unexpected that she pauses a second too long -

and then suddenly they're making eye contact and _he sees her_ and there's no way she's making it out of the bar quick enough, but she's pushing her way through anyway, as fast as she can.

And then she's outside, and he's nowhere to be seen, and she just needs to breathe, because she's safe for now.

She doesn't know how much longer her luck will hold out.

* * *

><p>She is about to give up when she runs into her in the grocery store.<p>

"Juliet," she says.

"Kate," Juliet responds.

She looks happier, now. Happier than before.

And this should be awkward, this silence that passes between them.

But it isn't.

* * *

><p>They decide on dates, places.<p>

Gainesville, Daytona Beach, Jacksonville.

Never Miami.

(Never anywhere Kate thinks _he_ could be).

* * *

><p>Fort Lauderdale in March marks the fourth time they meet up.<p>

It's a lot like their previous meetings:

Easy. Relaxed. _Comfortable._

But today is the first time there's mouths pressed together, slick fingers against heated flesh.

Kate could get used to this.

* * *

><p>There's another close call in Tampa.<p>

He almost sees her – would have seen her, if not for Juliet.

(Juliet pulls her in close, presses a kiss to her lips).

(And everything else melts away).

The next time she looks up, he's nowhere to be seen.

* * *

><p>They're in Naples when Kate realizes:<p>

She could like her. (As if she didn't already).

She believes she could more than just like her, with time.

It's been a long while since Kate's felt like this.

She doesn't understand it, but she knows it can't last.

(Not with _him_ as a constant presence, lurking in the background).

She has to call it off.

* * *

><p>Their last meeting is in West Palm Beach on Juliet's birthday.<p>

It's cocktails after dinner, and small talk all the way back to the room.

The bed is cold but not for long.

(Their fingers intertwine, their sighs meld, their bodies move as one).

And just as she drifts off, she hears a quiet voice by her ear:

"I'll miss you."

* * *

><p>The next day, she wakes to an arm looped around her waist and lips pressed against the crook of her neck.<p>

She carefully untangles herself from the other woman, trying not to wake her.

Just before she closes the door, she looks back—

_blondehairblueeyespalelimbs _and _thisiswhatshe'sleaving_

—and then she's gone.

("I'll miss you too.")


End file.
